Congratulations
by Mrs. Singing Violin
Summary: Matilda and Miss Honey have a talk after a life-changing event.


Title: Congratulations  
Rating: K  
Book: Matilda  
Author: Singing Violin  
Summary: Matilda and Miss Honey have a talk after a life-changing event.  
Disclaimer: Roald Dahl owns these characters. I'm just borrowing them.  
Feedback: Always welcome, but please keep it about the story.

"Come in," Matilda bade, hearing the knock on her door.

A familiar figure entered, and Matilda's face lit up. "Miss Honey! Oh, thank you for coming!"

The older woman rushed forward and embraced the younger one. She couldn't stop herself. "You look amazing! How was it?"

"It was all right," Matilda answered. "I'm not accustomed to so much physical exertion, and I must admit that while I was well-researched on the topic, I wasn't quite prepared for the full effect of the hormones. I suppose there is no adequate way of describing it, or the experience differs too much from person to person to form an accurate prediction based upon prior cases. But I'm glad, at least, that we both survived."

A flicker of sadness passed briefly over the older woman's face at the memories the younger one's last sentence had evoked. She'd lost her own mother when she was only two, and couldn't help but wonder if Matilda was "counting her chickens" too soon. However, she would do what she could to prevent a similar tragedy from happening to this new family, or really, to any family she had any clout with.

She looked over, then, at the tiny infant sleeping in the bassinet beside Matilda, and sighed. "She's more than survived. She's beautiful. What are you going to name her?"

Matilda didn't hesitate. "I'm thinking Agatha."

"After Miss Trunchbull?" Miss Honey was astonished.

"Well, yes," she admitted, but did not elaborate further.

"Why?" was all the teacher could ask.

"For starters," Matilda replied carefully, "I have researched various traditions, and in some, it is considered a grave insult to name your child after a living person."

"So you are actually dishonoring her?" Miss Honey asked, trying to grasp her head around Matilda's reasoning.

"Not exactly," Matilda answered. "For one thing, we don't know if she's still alive or not. If she's dead, we would be honoring her memory."

Miss Honey nodded. "And what's the rest of your thinking?"

"Well," Matilda continued, "while Miss Trunchbull was quite horrid to me as a child, if she hadn't been, I don't know that I would have been able to develop my abilities, and helped you. Of course, there's no sense in exploring counterfactuals, because if Miss Trunchbull hadn't been so terrible, you may not have needed rescuing. I, however, might have ended up in Spain."

"How are your folks?" the older woman asked, suddenly feeling the need to change the subject before the conversation could take a more maudlin tone.

"I haven't heard from my parents for years," Matilda said. "I knew as a child that they didn't care for me, but I guess I hoped, as I got older, that my impressions had been mistaken, and that they would want to reconnect with me. But although I found them and sent them letters, they never replied. I did, however, hear from my brother not too long ago. He's living in the United States now, and working in the family business…selling used cars. But I don't think he uses sawdust or turns the odometers back like my father used to. There are laws against that and they're very proactive about policing over there. He can still lie to and overcharge people, though, as long as they don't catch on. I gather he's very good at it. Anyway, Miss Honey, as far as I'm concerned, you're the only family I've ever wanted or needed…until now."

Miss Honey smiled at that. "You've got your own family now."

"Yes," Matilda replied. "And I want to be a good mother, but it seems much more difficult than any of my academic studies. I have read hundreds of books on the topic of motherhood, and they all seem to have different opinions. How am I supposed to know what to do?"

Miss Honey took Matilda's hand in her own. "Parenthood isn't something that can be prescribed. Most people just figure it out as they go along. And some get it very, very wrong…and yet their children can still turn out beautifully, like you did."

"But I had you," Matilda pointed out. She shivered, thinking of what she was like back when she was with her birth parents. "If I hadn't, I'm not sure what I would have become. I was already quite masochistic in my shenanigans when I was angered, before I met you. I never told you about all the horrible things I did to my parents in retaliation for what they did to me."

"Like what?" Miss Honey asked, suddenly intrigued.

"Well," Matilda said, "I once super-glued my father's hat to his head. And then I dyed his hair a ridiculous color. And I borrowed a parrot from my neighbor so I could stick it up the chimney and make my parents think it was a ghost. Come to think of it, I left that parrot up in the chimney for a whole day so as not to get caught, and I'm lucky it survived."

Miss Honey's eyes went wide. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Matilda shook her head. "I thought you wouldn't want me if you knew. You were so kind, so generous, so forgiving. You were even patient with Miss Trunchbull. And knowing what you went through, especially because of her, and that you didn't fight back at all, I worried that you would think me dangerous or evil. I wanted you to like me, Miss Honey, because I enjoyed your company and I needed someone to look after me."

There were tears in the older woman's eyes now. "Oh, Matilda," she cried, "I never knew. But I would have done things like that if I'd had the guts to do them. But you must remember that until he died, I had a father who loved me. I don't blame you for the things you did. I'm sure your parents deserved every bit of it, and more. I actually admire your spirit and courage, and, knowing what you were capable of, your restraint."

Matilda smiled. "There is that." But then her face fell. "That's another thing, Miss Honey…what if my daughter is not extraordinary? What shall I do if she can't read yet when she is four, can't do arithmetic…what if she is more like my parents than like me? Or worse, what if I inadvertently prevent her from becoming extraordinary, perhaps by being too kind? Is it better that she be happy immediately, or that she develop to her full potential? I've always wondered what it would have been like if I hadn't lost my telekinetic powers."

Miss Honey sat on the edge of the hospital bed next to the young mother and put her hand on Matilda's shoulder. "I think you'll manage. None of us can predict our children's potential. All we can do is love them for who they are and provide them with the resources we believe they need. Would you really want your child to be telekinetic? She'd be freakish; she'd either have to hide her powers from all of her friends, or she'd be known as the freak, set to be an outcast, feared and reviled by her peers. It would be a horrible life. While I was willing to support you no matter what you were capable of, I always feared not being able to protect you if your uniqueness were to become known."

"I've always been able to protect myself," Matilda pointed out. "I'm sure you wouldn't have needed to."

Miss Honey sighed. "Yes, you have. I always thought that you took better care of me than I did of you."

"Oh, Miss Honey, don't say that! I needed a home, and love, and encouragement…and you provided all of those things. I will always be ever so grateful to you for that. I hope you understand what a wonderful thing you did for me. And…I hope that you will be present in my daughter's life."

"Of course I will!" Miss Honey answered. "I wouldn't think otherwise! You couldn't keep me away! Well, perhaps _you_ could, but only you…"

Matilda giggled a bit at the implication. Just then, the baby began to cry.

"May I?" asked Miss Honey, and Matilda nodded.

Gingerly, Miss Honey picked up the precious bundle and held her for a moment before handing her off to her mother, who brought the baby to her breast, where it latched and quieted.

Miss Honey looked away slightly. "I see you've figured that out. I heard it was difficult, and regretted never having a chance to do it myself, seeing as you were already five when I got you."

"The books helped with this one. It's not so hard if you know all the tricks. And I could have dealt with more siblings," said Matilda. "I mean, I wouldn't have minded if you'd married and had another baby. I would have helped."

"I know you would, Matilda, and that is part of the reason why I couldn't do it. I knew you were special, and moreover, you had already helped me so much; I didn't ever want you to feel like the 'adopted' child among a natural family. You were as dear to me as my own flesh and blood ever could be. And, to be perfectly honest, you were so intelligent and amazing that you spoiled me. No man could provide adequate company after I got used to being around you. I was content to have my family be just you and me…until now, of course."

"I am so glad to hear that, Miss Honey," said Matilda.

Suddenly an odd thought occurred to the older woman. "Isn't it time that you stopped calling me Miss Honey, Matilda? I mean, if we are family…perhaps you should call me Jenny."

Matilda grinned and began to re-swaddle the baby, who had finished eating and fallen back asleep. "I will do you one better. I think, henceforward, you should be Grandma Jenny."

Grandma Jenny smiled. "I like that. And, oh, I forgot to say, congratulations!"

"Congratulations yourself…Grandma," said Matilda.


End file.
